


reflection

by abeebumbling



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Recovery, pre-160
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-29
Updated: 2020-03-29
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:00:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23375047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abeebumbling/pseuds/abeebumbling
Summary: Jon doesn't keep old photos of himself for the same reason Martin avoids mirrors.
Relationships: Jonmartin - Relationship, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
Comments: 11
Kudos: 199





	reflection

“Oh my god, Jon! Is this you?”

Martin’s on the floor, a fat, dusty hardcover resting on his lap. He’d offered Jon to help pack but so far he’d only gotten distracted by his heavily stacked bookshelves. Jon didn’t mind the company though, especially with Martin smiling at the book so wide it practically reaches his ears.

“What?”

As Martin lifts the book to show him, Jon catches sight of the printed title on the cover. Yearbook. He grimaces. Martin starts laughing.

“You’re making the same exact face!” He snorts, face pink with delight. It softens Jon’s frown.

He sits down next to Martin, letting himself lean against him as he peers over his shoulder at the set of pictures.

“Oh lord,” he mumbles. “I’d forgotten half these people.”

“Oh?”

“Yes. I didn’t even know I still had this thing,”

He scans the page, seeing vaguely familiar face, after vaguely familiar face. His eyes stop at the one picture labeled “Jonathan Sims”. It’s startling how young he looks, skin smooth and only slightly marked by his light scowl as he squints, probably at the flash of the photo. 

Old scars on his face suddenly itch, as though fresh and as he abruptly closes the book he can’t help notice how terrible his hand looks. Burns always leave such awful scars.

“Jon?”

He blinks. 

“Alright?” asks Martin, his voice soft. “Did I touch a nerve?”

He finds it hard to answer. 

“I… no, sorry, it’s alright. I just-“ his scarred hand goes to a scar on his cheek. “I hadn’t realised how different I looked now.” He touches the scar lightly, feeling its groove. “Didn’t used to have so many gray hairs,” he jokes feebly as an afterthought.

Martin’s hand goes to the one tracing his face, from his expression the joke went completely over his head. It’s no surprise to Jon though. Happens a lot. Martin’s hand is warm around his, a callouse on his index breaking it’s softness. He smiles, in that quiet way of his.

“I think the gray hair suits you, Jon,”

Jon could have kissed him, right then and there. Instead he smiles, a once uncharacteristic but now familiar warmth rising in his chest. Martin pokes his cheek gently, grinning.

“I love how you’re an easy blusher.”

Jon hits him with the yearbook.

\- - -

Martin can’t stomach his reflection on bad days and on good ones he can’t stare at it for too long.

Unfortunately for him, today is a bad day.

He brushes his hair as best as he can without a mirror and, from how dry his curls feel, he doesn’t think he’s looking his best. From the way Jon keeps glancing at him, he also knows that his lack of sleep is very much visible. But a quick ‘it’s fine, leave it,’ gets him off his back, with just more offers of tea than usual. Martin doesn’t mind. He could use something warm and familiar. As he stirs a spoonful of honey in his mug, Jon asks him for the time. He pulls out his phone.

“It’s-“

He stares at himself in the black screen. His vision blurs and the phone slips out of his hand and onto the floor with a clatter.

_Your father’s face._

“Damn it,” he manages to choke out before bursting into tears.

In an instant Jon’s arm are around him, spindly and awkward but there, rocking him, his pointy chin on the top of Martin’s ruffled hair. He tries to stifle and swallow his sobs but only manages to muffle them in Jon’s shoulder. A few minutes later, he inhales shakily but deeply and realises with a jolt that he’s on Jon’s lap on the couch.

“Jon-“ He tries to struggle but is held tightly. He laughs and it’s empty. “Jon, for goodness’ sake I’ll crush you!”

“No you won’t,” Jon says stubbornly, wrapping his long arms tighter around Martin. “Don’t even try escaping.”

“Oh no, I’m a prisoner,” he says jokingly, despite his voice wobbling and every three words being punctuated with a hiccup.

Jon smiles but his forehead is creased with worry.

“Martin, are you…” He falters. He doesn’t often finish his questions nowadays. It’s his way of keeping the Eye at bay from twisting them. “You know. You can talk to me.”

“I… I never told you about what happened during the Stranger’s ritual, did I?”

“With Eli- er. With Jonah?”

Martin shivers. That part is still a little hard to get used to. He gives a tiny nod.

“He- he told me- showed me? I… He said I looked like my dad,” he chokes out.

Jon doesn’t say anything but his expression very clearly conveys two words: ’that’s it?’.

“It’s- My mum, she never- she didn’t really like me. I think she hated me? My dad left us when I was really little and- and- Elias- Jonah- he said I reminded her of him and- oh god,”

Martin’s face twists as he squeezes his eyes tightly shut, two more tears trickling down his already damp cheeks.

“He said I looked just like him- like my dad- that if I ever wanted to know what he looked like that, I just needed a mirror and I-“ 

The sobs curl up his throat again. He was overcome with grief for just a second. Jon’s fingers tighten around his hand and after a moment, it’s just about enough to ground him.

“I miss her,” he says hoarsely.

“I know,”

“Even though she was awful to me, I miss her. Stupid, isn’t it?”

“It’s not Martin, it’s really, really, not.” A few months ago he’d never thought Jon’s voice could be as soft as it sounds now. “Here.” He’d also never thought Jon would dry his tears so carefully.

“Thank you Jon,”

Jon gives a wry smile, eyes confused.

“I didn’t do anything,”

“Yes, you did. More than you can imagine. Thank you.” 

“It’s alright.” Martin finds himself grinning. Jon blinks. “What?”

Martin pokes Jon’s cheek with a finger.

“Easy blusher,” he teases.

Jon smacks his hand away with a mildly irritated exhale despite still smiling.

“Every time we have a moment, Martin.” Martin laughs and it illuminates the whole room. Jon can’t help a chuckle. “Every time.”

**Author's Note:**

> I listened to s4 in like less than a week and typed this out in an hour SO it might not be entirely coherent


End file.
